Arrow to the heart
by JustWriting97
Summary: 'Clint Barton was sent to kill me. He made a different call.' But the different call meant that he spared her life to be taken by another. One shot.


**ARROW TO THE HEART:**

The story was said to go something like this 'Clint Barton was sent to kill me. He made a different call.' But the different call meant that he spared her life to be taken by another and according to Natasha in a more humane way than an arrow to the heart.

It was a moment of weakness really, her knees down on the ground before God in the old empty church in the dead of the night.

"Hands where I can see them, Black Widow." He says confidently, and in her mind no doubt with a gun pointed directly for her head. She imagines the steam rolling out of his mouth in a perfect wave as hers does when she opens her mouth to reply.

"God isn't really fond of Guns, especially in the church." Is all she says, still on her knees and still making confessions that no one knows about.

"God isn't fond of sinners like you either." And that gets to her. Muttering an apology to the cross above her, she rises slowly and swiftly. The assassin gripping his gun tighter she supposes. And then they are face to face and aren't bow and arrows obsolete by now?

He tightens his bow further until those calloused, gloved hands are right next to his ear. Then boom, he sees her and she is beautiful and so-so young and this is just shit. He isn't a saint but he can't be a sinner by killing her and in a church more over.

Her photo on the manila folder thrown to him in the dark conference room of SHIELD did her no justice. 'What's my mission?'

'Kill her' and that's about all he gets, no how's, no where, no when, just a long list of people she has killed and a single blur image of the Russian beauty.

'Natasha Romanoff' he thinks later when he is on his flight to track the said name down, 'Let the fun begin'.

He checks his ammo ten times over at the hotel room and then sits down with a bottle of whiskey to think of the best way possible to approach this mission, because in his mind he does not want to be another man in the long list of deceased people in the manila folder on the Widow.

Two bottles of whiskey later when the clocks strikes 10.30, he lets his mind wander. Why him? The Black Widow has a 100% successful kill rate behind her and is a major threat to any organization. But why did SHIELD send him to do the job? He certainly isn't the worst or weakest agent they have but more importantly he is not the best either…yet.

'Because you are a replaceable pawn at the hands of the council' says his handler of one year, Phil Coulson. And is ego is slightly bruised on those words but his determination to kill the Widow gets stronger.

Two weeks later is determination and hard work finally pays off and they are now glaring each other from a mere three foot distance. Screw the pawn quote he says, in his mind because he is willing to be a pawn all his life if that means keeping is moral code.

"What's your age?"

"Does it matter? You are here to kill me and I prefer you do it soon because I don't want to waste time. Kill me or let me go."

"What? That's it? No historical fight, no immortal last words, no anything." He says because he is confused. Really is this how death was supposed to be.

"I don't believe in fighting in front of god." And can you believe it that they are yet in the same position. Him with is arrow ready to kill and her standing there defenseless.

It shouldn't be cold, it's the mid of autumn for God's sake but then again they are in Russia, what could you expect. More steam rolls out in thick puffs out of their mouths and he knows it for certain then, He can't kill her.

"Any last wishes?" he tries.

She thinks hard for a moment and frankly this is the first time anyone has offered her a last wish and that says something. She has, what, stared death in the eyes for 25, maybe 35 times and now comes her final wish. She decides to be honest.

"I want to die in a more humane way than having an arrow pierce trough my body." He is taken aback, clearly offended but it is true.

He makes a jump towards her and she decides not to fight for once. A kick to the side of the head is all it takes before her world goes black. But she notices the SHIELD emblem on his uniform and finally she can assume death is eminent and finally she is free.

She properly wakes up in a cell that is quite spacious to her surprise but expectedly white and bare, pretty sure that she was heavily sedated by one of the SHIELD employees. She is slightly disappointed that she isn't dead yet, puffs a short breath of air in annoyance and paces around the cell. And she looks like a tiger pacing around the pathetic enclosure in her black cat suit and red-orange hair and the growl on her face is just too perfect.

"Kill me or let me go' she thought she made it pretty clear to the agent, but no every screwing intelligence organization just likes to take the long way out. Now because of that immature assassin she has to think of an escape plan. Great, isn't it?

"Barton, you could have killed her, no, you should have killed her but you didn't. Care to explain?" Phil Coulson asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, head slightly raised to the fluorescent light on the ceiling.

"I couldn't"

"I know you couldn't. I am asking you why you couldn't."

"Moral codes to live by" the archer replied in a short and vexed tone. He has worked his ass off on this mission and it wasn't even successful and he hasn't slept in 48 hours and post mission briefing is plain shit right now.

"The world doesn't need your moral, it needs a safer environment. Your living code is landing you in so much shit right now. And-"

"The world doesn't need morals but I do, like I said living code." He contemplates on another approach to convince his handler, breathes in a few times then continues. "She is just so young and –her last way is to die in a more humane way, whatever humane meant."

And that gets Coulson at the heart. Because Clint Barton is a human more than an assassin, he had been in a similar albeit less dramatic situation before. Because Clint Barton lets his heart rule his head over decisions but they work for an organization that avoids the hearty ol' decisions like the plaque. Such impulsive decisions might just land you in the hot waters according to their perspective. But Clint is Clint and he might never get that. Morality before everything, _what a gentleman_.

"Clint, you have read her files, you know the threat she poses to the countries and you know assassinations should never be subjected to the age of the victim nor of the assassin. Why did you bring her in, when you could have let her go?"

'Agent Colson and Barton to conference room 5, immediately.' And that sealed their fate. Meeting room 5, shudder…..

Clint walked down the hallways with as much pride as he had, chin up and all. Coulson didn't fare as well because Phil was a wise man and he knew that his agent's action would have severe consequences. They reached the conference room in no time, sucked in a mouthful of courage from the suddenly thick ambience and knocked twice in quick succession.

Fury angrily ripped the door open, clearly starting to have a migraine from the ruthless questions pelted upon him by the Council that filled the 10 screens on the walls (Yes Clint counted). He turned around; once again facing the council members and giving the agents room to step in.

"Agent Barton, you disobeyed direct orders to kill the Widow, instead you bought her on base. Did you even for once consider the dangers of your absurd behavior?" The old diplomat from one screen questioned him but it felt more of an accusation.

"Actually, I did. And that is exactly why I had informed the base and asked them to prepare the isolation cell."

"But is that really enough? We had ordered your organization to take the Widow down because SHIELD seemed the best. I hope we didn't assume wrong and that SHIELD has employed incompetent agents." Voiced another face on the screen that lit the dim room

"No, you are not; SHILED is and will remain the best organization. Our employees are the most eligible and skilled ones you will find." Fury gritted his teeth. "Agent Barton will take full responsibility for his actions. Isn't that correct, Agent Barton?"

The said Agent was caught off guard. Was Director Fury really backing him up? He is scared now. "Uh-yes of course" is all he can manage currently.

"But surely one does not simply sway from direct orders. Did the Widow bribe you with any incentives?"

Phil has been quietly analyzing the conversation next to Barton, only looking up every once in a while to look confident. But the above question caused him to sharply raise his head to the screens and he has already broken down the situation. He just hopes that Barton replies sensibly.

"Yes."

And then mouths flew open and Phil choked on his own breath. This isn't something he thought Barton would ever do but…..

"Yes, offered me a chance to fulfill her final wish." Barton continues, restoring their breaths to them again. "She wanted to die in a more humane way and I think everyone, killer or not, is entitled to have a least wish."

"Agent Barton, are you telling us that Natasha Romanoff asked you to kill her but in a more humane way? That she wants to die and is ready for it?" Fury asks because this is part of the story that even he isn't aware of.

"Yes Sir that is exactly what I am saying. I was hoping perhaps we can use the 'death bed' method."

"Gentlemen" the council interrupts "we have arrived at a conclusion. We have decided that the Black Widow, no doubt has to be taken down but perhaps, we can agree on the death bed method. As long as she dies that is." One council men boomed.

"However, your actions Agent Barton are frowned upon and are inexcusable. You are on probation until further notice and your clearance level is reduced to level 3. You will also be responsible to decide her death date and time and will be present during the event of the same." Another automated councilmen continued, because they all like to complete each-other's sentences.

"Yes sir." Barton barked.

"We are not yet finished Agent Barton. Agent Phil your clearance level too has been reduced to 8 and your agency benefits have been cut until Barton completes his probation." Phil Coulson could do nothing but nod. "Good. Dismiss."

The room was suddenly bathed in blackness and the seething anger vibrating off Fury and Phil both. Heck even he was angry. Words were hot on the tips of their tongues but nothing came out. Was there anything that could actually be said? Nothing, so they went their separate ways in order to prevent the disaster they knew they could cause in their given state of anger.

Back in the isolated holding cell of SHIELD HQ, Natasha Romanoff was forming a plan to escape. This agency is of no use to her if they didn't carry out their orders to take her out. Maybe she could fool the guard into slipping her lock open. But she had already tried that and the bastard won't budge from his place. Maybe when they will send the food tray in, she could slip the knife off the tray and work her out from there. And that's about all she could think off, because this room is bullet proof, reinforced steal and the rest. And she sure as hell is ready to die or ready to leave.

She paces the white room for five more times and finally sits down on the hard bed. And then she hears the footsteps, finally. The footsteps approach slowly but firm in each step. When it seems like eternity, the owner of those footsteps finally announces their presence.

"Romanoff." Says the voice that utterly makes her blood boil and vaporize. It's that agent.

She blows at him because really all he really seems to do is waste her time. She had been captured before, been captured a couple of times, but never with this heinous amount of security, firmly keeping her in this cell. "Look, Agent whatever, I don't know your name, I don't know in which part of the world am I, I honestly I don't give a damn but I asked you to kill me and don't you think that I made your job easier? But no, you bloody moron had to hold me in this pitiful cell and waste my time. I promise, when I get out of this cage I will make it my personal mission to kill you in every way you fear." Natasha ranted on, her face merely inches away from the glass wall, eyes wide and dilated in full rage. She meant every damn word she said; sadly it made no influence on the steady archer.

"We have to decide your death date." He finally says, stopping her threat midway. She looks directly in his eyes, her breath misting the cool glass like magic.

Barton had never seen anyone, so willing to die but so ready to live. 'Kill or let me go' what kind of saying is that. Plus he thinks no assassin is ever allowed to say that. Assassins either kill or get killed and they never ever get caught, especially willfully. And yet the great Black Widow graces her presence upon them and now he can clearly see the irritation in her eyes. It's about time to do as she says.

"What were you doing until now, knitting?"

"_We_ get to decide _your_ death date." It seems like a one way conversation up until now, where both of them were on different pages.

"Who are we?"

"SHIELD."

"Great. All I asked you to do is to kill me maybe with a bullet, cyanide even but you bring me in and complicate things. SHEILD agents cant to one thing right, can they?"

The comm. in his ear cuts the conversation and begins another. 'Tomorrow at midnight.' That's all Phil Coulson says and just like that the line is dead.

And it's really funny how a bunch of people can just issue a person's death date like a dinner conversation. Think about it, what authority to they have to kill someone and spare someone else. Clearly organizations like SHIELD are too fond of playing God. Has anyone told them that they suck at it?

"You get your wish, tomorrow at midnight." He says and she doesn't even falter.

"Is it guaranteed?"

'What is she talking about? Guaranteeing your own death!' He thinks

"Well a lot of the people here want you dead" he says instead.

Her eyes haven't left his and it is slightly nerving because he sees himself in those green eyes and it's like….

She retreats back to sit on that ratted bed and just stares ahead. The white walls, white ceiling, white floors, then a black cat suit and finally the bright red hair.

"Anything else, you want?" he asks and she says nothing. Was he actually expecting an answer? So he stares right at her for two minutes more and finally leaves. "My names Barton by the way" he whispers before leaving.

Midnight, tomorrow and somehow the date affects him more than it affected her. He goes back to his room, turns the light on and then back off. He sits on his bed and stares into nothing the same way she is currently sitting in the holding cell. She is so damn young but 'don't bring my age into this'. She is so lost but she doesn't want to be found and she is so stupid and he just as messed up to know.

Needless to say he doesn't sleep at all, he knows she doesn't either. Daylight breaks into his room from the small window on the left and it won't be long now. He hops out of bed and into the shower. The warm water sprays all over his body and he can't help but thinking over all these mundane tedious activities of daily life and life is just so bleak. But is it right for her to choose death over life? But all his thought come to a halting stop, why is he thinking of her again? Why is he thinking of Natasha Romanoff so much?

He goes to see Coulson after that. Breakfast and all those mundane activities later they sit in his office and just sit. No words seem right but the silence isn't awkward. "Spit it out." Coulson says without ever looking up from the mountain of papers on his desk. He gets nothing.

They eat lunch in silence and sit in silence once again but by now the quite atmosphere is heavy so finally Clint speaks because he knows Phil will always understand.

"What is so different about her? I mean I have never seen a target like her."

"Because you don't see her like a target, you see her like I saw you."

That leaves him a little confused and the sandwich on his plate is untouched, while Phil makes a quick grab for his fries.

"And how did you see me, Phil?"

"Let's find out, shall we?" And so they find themselves on the holding level and in front of the cell holding the deadly spider. She hasn't moved from her position on the bed from yesterday.

She raises her head, glances at the watch on Phil's hand and goes back to her original position.

"It's 4pm, Romanoff." Phil says curtly.

"I need a fresh pair of white clothes and a church father in here at 9pm." She replies back.

They don't ask anything else, neither does she but that doesn't mean that there won't be any lingering questions on their tongues. They opt for silence anyway.

They send her the white clothes at 8.30. She pulls it out of the package to find that it is a white dress and somehow, as she pulls up the zip up, she feels a little pure. Like a little of her red ledger has been erased.

The lone steel door to her cell opens right on 9 pm and in step Coulson. She is taken aback for a little while but then he simply, armed with a single cross, steps forwards and makes a cross sign over her. She thinks this is as good as she can get. He sits down on the bed with her a good foot and a half next to him.

Silence lingers for a minute and she finally says. "Bless me Father for I have sinned. And forgive me for I didn't perform my penance yet. These are my sins….."

She is not religious and she knows this but she also knows that these are her final hours so she might as well do something that isn't a sin.

Clint Barton stands in the room that will soon be occupied by the Black Widow and a bed that she will never rise from again. He stands dead in the center of the room as the others, bring in the equipment for her death. He glances at his watch and it reads 11.30. Not long now. He can already see a crowd gathered at the rafter, murmuring excited exchanges and harsh words on the Widow's death.

And he finally sees why the Widow is so ready to die. What does she have to live for anyway? A world full of people trying to kill her or hire her to kill someone else isn't a good enough push to keep living. And for the first time he is glad that she is being taken down, because once upon a time, he knew what she is going through.

The watch on his hand beeps 12.00, and right on cue three guard's march forward through the door. The prisoner walks in with as much dignity as she ever had. Her head is raised to the world but even from across the room she can notice the slightly red rimmed eyes. Fury walks in with Coulson behind the guards and all too suddenly the room is too hot for Clint, despite the goose bumps on Romanoff's hand from the chilly room. The rafter above them goes eerily silent, save for the slight gasps and profanities.

She is roughly pushed to the cold table. And she seems to know just exactly how she is going to go. Clint carefully watches her as she gracefully climbs and lies down on the bed. One of the doctors in the room roughly yanks on her hand and straps it up o he side, while another does the same with her legs until she is completely immobile. Coulson by this time comes and stands next to Barton. She stares right at the ceiling for the entire process, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. And that's just too painful to watch. Can a smile really be that painful to someone who is watching?

The three vials hanging on the wall hold the clear liquid of her demise, attached to a lone tube that is now injected to her arm by the doctor. The said doctor simply looks at Fury and he in turn simply gives a firm nod. A button is pushed and the first vial runs the fluid into her body.

The agents in the rafter are clapping and cheering on now. They receive no reaction from the infamous Black Widow but a simple shudder and a wider simple. There is a low cheer of 'Die!' coming out from the rafters and Clint thoroughly wants to punch them in the face.

Vial two is now running through the tube and the archer's eye catches the change in her breathing. The smile however is the same. She slides her head to the side and catches his eyes by her own orbs. He sees the glaze in them perfectly contradicting the smile on her red lips.

It's about it now. Her breathing is labored and the sheen of sweat on her forehead is hard to miss. She is counting down her final seconds. Just one more vial to go. Her intense gaze causes Clint to turn his head to the side at right at Phil and then he finally sees it. He truly sees that Coulson saw in him all those years ago.

His silently asks Coulson what no word could ever say and he nods. The cheer in the rafters is almost a celebration now. Like a hunter celebrating his first game. It's disrespectful and inhumane. Her breathing reaches critical but her gaze on him is firm until a lone tear slips from the corner of her eye. Vial three is halfway empty but…

But Clint Barton pushes the button to stop the vial.

The room grows silent and cold, but all he can focus on is the red head staring at him. Another tear escapes and her eyes finally slip close.

Clint Barton finally saw what Coulson saw in him years ago but he saw much more in the Russian assassin. He didn't regret a thing because a year later, he calls the ex-Russian assassin his partner.

_The end._

**AN: **Thanks for reading. Time for reviewing. Let me know what you think.

Leave a review. Thanks.


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